


Growing Away

by protectoroffaeries



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Class Differences, Dysfunctional Family, Elves, F/M, Family, Fantasy Racism, Half-Elves, Implied Underage, Loss, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-16
Updated: 2018-03-16
Packaged: 2019-04-01 06:56:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13992885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/protectoroffaeries/pseuds/protectoroffaeries
Summary: Vax’ildan rebels. Vex’ahlia conforms. Neither of them can live like this.





	Growing Away

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to my lovely beta @swiftbell
> 
> this has been rattling around in my head for awhile - i spent a REALLY long time thinking the twins’ mother Elaina (and... i might do a fic with more of her in the future)
> 
> this is... partially a character study, i think, for character canon doesn’t give us much about... so take that as you will

Three days after Magistrate Connak accuses Vax’ildan of seducing both his son and his daughter, the guards arrest Vax’ildan on suspicion of arson. The ancient boathouse on Lake Ywnnlas hasn’t been used in decades, but it is something of an iconic symbol of the city and setting it on fire is certainly an act of treason. In the moment, Syldor isn’t sure if the lack of proof is a good thing or not, because there is no doubt in his mind his son is guilty of both crimes.

He drags Vax’ildan home in silence, and Vax’ildan doesn’t say anything; he doesn’t protest or defend himself like he normally does, which Syldor considers all the more evidence - the exact kind of evidence that can’t truly be used against him. A small part of him supposes he should be grateful that Vax’ildan is crafty enough to thoroughly cover his tracks - he could lose his job if his son were convicted of anything - but mostly he wishes Vax would simply do what he’s told.

Vex’ahlia does what she’s told. He never has to drag _her_ home from godsdamn Beryl Keep. She’s at the top of her class in all her studies, she has respectable friends, she knows what she’s supposed to do. She isn’t the perfect daughter by any means, but she tries to do what’s right. Syldor wishes she would teach her brother a bit about what’s right.

“Do you have anything to say for yourself?” Syldor demands once the door is safely shut behind them.

Vax’ildan looks up at him, eyes hot, flashing with frustration. They’re Elaina’s eyes. Syldor knows this glare intimately, the last memory of a woman he cared for but didn’t love. He doesn’t like the look of her on Vax’ildan, but he can’t wipe her from him. He’s tried. Sometimes he wonders if she’s haunting him through her son.

“It wasn’t me,” he says.

Syldor gives a glare of his own, icy, unmeltable. “I’m sure.”

“It wasn’t,” Vax’ildan repeats, insistant, and then a cruel grin curls across his face. He’s far too young to be so dark. “I was with Lorelai Connak.”

***  
“ _Hope really likes your friend. He better not be as much of a jackass as you under all those honeyed words.”_

_“He likes your kind.”_

_“My kind? You mean women?”_

_Syldor thinks about what he meant: human, poor, but the cattish grin on her face makes him say, “Easy.”_

_“Oh, honey,” Elaina says, holding up a coin purse. His coin purse. “The only easy one here is_ you.”

***  
Vex’ahlia sits at the dining room table, mumbling under her breath while writing on a long piece of parchment. She doesn’t stop what she’s doing when Syldor walks in, but she does acknowledge him by asking, “Where’s Vax?”

“Upstairs,” he answers, “though I have half a mind to march him back to the Keep and tell them to take him.” He goes to the liquor cabinet on the far wall and pulls out one of the stronger spirits.

“He didn’t set the boathouse on fire,” she says, though she sounds far away, as if she’s still mostly absorbed in her work.

Syldor pours himself a full glass and leaves the bottle open. He didn’t believe Vax’ildan’s brazen comment about being with Miss Connak, but now that Vex’ahlia is backing part of his statement, he has to wonder. Of course, she’s a biased source, too; there’s no doubt in Syldor’s mind that she would lie for him. One of Vex’ahlia’s greatest flaws is her devotion to her twin. He knows Vax’ildan will be her downfall.

It’s a shame, considering she’s been given the rare opportunity to rise beyond her heritage.

“And what of the Magistrate’s concerns?”

Vex’ahlia snorts, which causes Syldor to frown. _What an ugly sound._ But Vex’ahlia takes no notice of his disapproval. “I don’t know anything about _my brother’s_ sex life, _Father_ ,” she says, intentionally emphasizing her relationships to each of them to prove her point. She doesn’t blush or stumble over the words, either, though: either she’s more engrossed in her task than Syldor thought or she’s more mature than he was at her age. Probably the latter. The human side of her makes her grow faster.

“Of course,” Syldor murmurs distantly. He takes a gulp of his drink, and it burns on the way down. High quality. He doesn’t flinch. “Only, I thought he might speak to you about it, without any of the detail.”

“No.”

“Vex’ahlia, this is serious.”

“Everything Vax does _is_ and _isn’t_ serious,” Vex’ahlia says. “It isn’t my business what he does with his time, which means it’s also not yours or the Magistrate’s.” She looks up from her work now, finally, and Syldor can tell by the way she arches an eyebrow that this is also to prove her point: she looks more like Vax’ildan than anyone else, _she’s closer to Vax’ildan than anyone else,_ although there’s always been something strikingly different about their faces Syldor has never been able to put his finger on.

“It _is_ my business - and the Magistrate’s, for that matter. We’re parents-”

“Don’t act like you care out of fatherly love,” Vex’ahlia says, but it’s not sharp and angry like Vax’ildan’s remark. It’s clinical in its neutrality.

There’s a small part of Syldor that is stung by her comment, but he doesn’t let it show. It would upset him if something terrible happened to Vax, regardless of how much of a pain in the ass he’s been lately. “He’s not old enough, even by human standards, to be doing anything with, with Miss Connak,” Syldor says, opting to skip over the other half of the allegations, “and her father _will_ throw him in prison, and no one will think twice about it.”

“If he had anything on Vax, he would’ve done more than scream at you,” Vex’ahlia says. “Just like if they had any shred of evidence that he set the boathouse on fire, they would’ve done more than scream at you.”

She make a valid point, although, “One day, his luck is going to run out.”

Vex’ahlia shrugs, though Syldor can’t say if it’s in disbelief or acceptance. She picks up her quill and goes back to looking over her parchment.

***  
Vax’ildan comes home beaten and bloodied two days later, leaning heavily on Vex’ahlia for support. She seems extremely concerned about him now; Syldor knows she always was, but he’s still proud of her for learning to mask her vulnerabilities.

He’s also a little proud of Vax’ildan - though begrudgingly so - because he still has the nerve and the wherewithal to give Syldor a nasty sneer through the blood and the obvious concussion.

“What happened?”

“The Tarn Ward boys didn’t get the memo that _it wasn’t me_ who set that fucking fire,” Vax’ildan growls, though it comes out a bit slurred, gore and spittle dribbling down his cheek. Vex’ahlia pulls a handkerchief, already speckled crimson, from her pocket and dabs at the mess. Vax’ildan gives her a look somewhere between exasperation and appreciation.

Syldor wonders if the guards who let him go knew this would happen.

Vex’ahlia helps Vax’ildan into one of the chairs in the front room; Syldor almost protests because that’s where he usually meets guests, but a second look at the awful shape Vax’ildan is in stays his tongue. Vex’ahlia goes to get a medicine kit.

***  
_“Elaina, what are you doing?”_

_“Fuck off,” Elaina says to the man harassing her, and suddenly she’s throwing her arms around Syldor’s neck for some ungodly reason. “I’m with the elf right now, Damien. You understand.”_

_“Don’t bring me into-”_

_“An_ elf _? What the fuck does he have that I don’t?”_

_“‘S not just their ears that are longer,” she says, and Syldor actually laughs._

***  
Vax’ildan’s injuries heal slowly. He has a black eye for two and a half weeks, despite treating it with vinegar daily, and he walks with a slight limp for longer. Syldor offers to take him to a healer once, but he waves it off, and Syldor doesn’t press it. If he thinks he can heal on his own, let him. He set himself up for this anyway, with his carefully-cultivated bad reputation.

***  
“I saw you kissing Ly’arl.”

Vex’ahlia’s voice carries from the kitchen, but they probably think Syldor is in his study.

“Not so loud,” Vax’ildan hisses. Vex’ahlia responds low enough that Syldor can’t make out what she’s saying. He debates whether he should eavesdrop; on one hand, neither of them react well to invasions of their privacy, something he can hardly fault them for, but on the other, they won’t tell him much upfront. And if he’s going to protect them, Vax’ildan especially, he needs to know as much of the truth as he can.

“-get in trouble again,” he hears Vex’ahlia say as he gets closer to the kitchen door.

“Vex, what are they going to do?”

“Throw you in prison?”

“For kissing a guy? I don’t think so.”

“I looked up the law codes,” Vex’ahlia says, and there’s the _thud_ of a heavy book hitting the counter. Both of them are quiet for a minute. Syldor tries to remember the codes she’s referencing from his studies. He doesn’t remember anything blatantly against same-sex relations, though he knows there are plenty of factions in Syngorn that frown upon such behavior.

“I’m not sure if that’s more racist or homophobic,” Vax’ildan says eventually. For a boy who claims not to care for his studies, those are some loaded terms he’s using.

“Here’s the other one you should read.” There’s a fluttering noise as Vex’ahlia flips pages.

“Now that one’s completely racist.”

“Yes,” agrees Vex’ahlia softly. Syldor is surprised by the amount of vitriol in her tone, but then, she has nothing to hide from her twin. “But that doesn’t change that it’s law. I don’t want to lose you.”

“You’re not going to lose me.”

“And what about when you and Ly’arl fight over something stupid, and he decides to tell everyone?”

“He can be a dick, but he wouldn’t do that.”

“You’re willing to risk your life on your faith in him?”

“What do you want me to do, Vex?”

“Stop seeing him?”

“And then what? You just want me to be single forever? That’s what those laws say I have to do,” Vax’ildan says. Syldor doesn’t remember the laws they’re talking about, but he’ll admit he only looked at the ones that were relevant to young half-elves when he decided to take them in. Perhaps now that they’re older, he should read on the more relevant ones.

“You could always find a half-elf girl-” Vex’ahlia begins, and it sounds like a sensible suggestion, but Vax’ildan cuts her off before she can finish.

“Yeah, because we’re _so_ abundant. You’re the only half-elf girl I know! And what about you? Are you just going to wait for the one other half-elf guy in all of Syngorn to sweep you off your feet? Do you even _like_ guys?”

“I like them well enough,” Vex’ahlia snaps, voice taunt in a way that makes Syldor think neither of his children are traditionally-inclined. Another fault of their mother’s ingrained in them.

“I’ll kiss who I want,” Vax’ildan mutters eventually, “and I’ll fuck who I want, and the only fucking permission I need is from the people I’m involved with. The fucking government, despite being a huge pain in the ass that likes to screw me over, isn’t my partner. If they want to hang me for living, I say _go ahead._ I’d rather die than spend my life doing nothing in this godsdamn house.” There’s a few loud stomps as Vax’ildan makes his dramatic exit.

It’s a low sound, so low Syldor almost misses it, but as he takes his leave, he can hear the faintest sound of Vex’ahlia crying.

***  
_“Elaina here thinks elven names are ridiculous. Can you believe it, Syl?”_

_“For some reason, I don’t find it shocking.”_

_“Names like_ Adlen _and_ Syldor _and,” Elaina taps a scrap of napkin that Syldor hadn’t noticed before, “_ Vex’ahlia _don’t sound very serious.”_

_Syldor takes a step closer so he can read the napkin. Sure enough, it says Vex’ahlia in Adlen’s flowing script. It’s odd to see the name written in Common, and for the first time, Syldor has an inkling of why Elaina finds it so strange. The realization makes him uncomfortable._

_“Vex’ahlia.”_

_“A generic elven name. Nothing strange about it.”_

_Alden’s quill pen is sitting on the bar next to the napkin, which is really no more than a coarse, brown bit of paper. Elaina picks it up and scrawls something that Syldor can’t see, and then she slides the scrap over to Adlen, who reads it and lets out a hearty laugh. He holds it at an angle so Syldor can read it._

Vax’ildan

_“It’s technically right, but I’ve never heard it.” It would technically work, which makes Syldor more uncomfortable._

_“No?” gasps Elaina in mock surprise. “Why, but it’s the masculine form of Vex’ahlia!”_

***  
Over the years, the twins’ teachers have had as many complaints about Vax’ildan as they have compliments about Vex’ahlia. He sleeps in class, she writes thoughtful papers. He rants about his opinions, she calmly debates her thoughts. He takes the bolts from the teacher’s chair or swipes the lesson plan or draws inappropriate pictures in the margins of his notes, while she sits up straight, always comes prepared, and gives detailed answers to each and every question asked of her. _It is astounding,_ they all conclude, _that the two of them are related, let alone twins._

Syldor doesn’t find it astounding at all. Neither of them know what to do in Syngorn, and they never have. Vax’ildan copes by rebelling. Vex’ahlia copes by conforming. Neither find it satisfying. One day, it will break them. Syldor doesn’t know what to do to keep them from that fate - it might be the best thing for both of them, to let them go until they fall apart.

Except Vax’ildan might end up in prison - or worse - before he snaps.

Sometimes, very late at night, Syldor can’t help but wonder if it wouldn’t be best for everyone if the two of them were to disappear.

***  
It isn’t long after Syldor overhears Vex’ahlia and Vax’ildan talking, maybe four or five days, that the guards return with another accusation. This time it’s vandalism (a caricature of the High Warden spray painted on the North wall), and Vax’ildan is caught red-handed -or rather, blue-handed, because his fingertips are stained with all the evidence the guards need to haul him away. It’s unlike him to be so sloppy.

Vex’ahlia is tight-lipped when they go to hear Vax’ildan’s case. She says nothing in defense of him, but she doesn’t say anything against him, either. The preceding magistrate (thankfully not the one that has issues with Vax’ildan) asks her one question: if she was with him around the time the crime was committed.

She’s smart enough to know a trick question when she sees one and says, “No.”

There’s an alarming amount of debate over whether past accusations should be considered in Vax’ildan’s punishment. Vax’ildan himself points out _why should I be punished for things you can’t prove?_ Syldor wishes he would learn not to speak out of turn, but luck is in his favor today. For once.

The magistrate not only agrees with him, but decides that since he is, essentially, a _child_ (Syldor receives a scathing look here - and he’s taken aback by it. Most say he’s done a kind thing, taking in the twins at his own expense. And it has been taxing, especially to his reputation.) that all he has to do is clean up the crude artwork and write an apology to the High Warden. The guards groan, and even Syldor can’t help but think it’s a little light.

***  
The three of them walk home after the proceedings. As soon as the door shuts behind them, Vax’ildan whirls on Vex’ahlia and says, “Tell me you didn’t.”

Syldor can’t fathom what he’s referring to. Neither of them said a word the entire walk home, so unless they’ve invented hand signals, there’s no context to this conversation. As far as he knows, Vex’ahlia did nothing wrong. Her self-control was exemplary in court, given the circumstances.

It must be a twin thing, or they have been devising signals to use behind his back, because Vex’ahlia immediately responds: “I didn’t!”

Vax’ildan relaxes.

“But I offered.”

“Godsdammit, Vex!”

 _“No,”_ Vex’ahlia says, and it’s firm enough that Vax’ildan stops in his tracks, mouth half-open. “You don’t get to stand here and say _godsdammit, Vex,_ like _I’m_ the one in the wrong.” She grabs his hands and flips them over so that the blue paint is visible. “I cannot believe you did that, right after we talked about how worried I am over you!”

“You should never-”

“Don’t tell me what I should and shouldn’t do, you asshole!”

It suddenly dawns on Syldor, what they’re talking about, and his initial reaction is to curl his lip in disdain and try to ignore his growing disappointment in Vex’ahlia. _Shameful._

Vex’ahlia’s back is to Syldor, but Vax’ildan glances at him over her shoulder, and his eyes narrow. It almost feels like a dare, which is _ridiculous._ Vax’ildan is the _child_ , as the magistrate so helpfully pointed out today, this is _Syldor’s_ house, and if he’d looked at his own father like that, he would’ve been boxed in the ear. And, as Vex’ahlia said, it’s entirely Vax’ildan’s fault that she felt it necessary to shame herself and them in such a manner.

“I should’ve left you in Byroden,” Syldor says coldly, but it doesn’t make the impact that it should, because Vax’ildan knows nothing of what’s happened to his hometown.

 _“You should’ve!_ You should’ve left us both there! That was our fucking home! You took us away from our mother!” Vax’ildan takes a deep breath. “Vex, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry you felt like you had to do that for me, and I’m… I’m grateful that this time, I ended up under the thumb of the only good judge in this fucking city, but I can’t… I don’t think I could… please, don’t ever try to do anything like that for me again.”

“Don’t put yourself in that position again,” Vex’ahlia says, and then she turns on her heel so that she can look back and forth between Syldor and Vax’ildan. There are tears in her eyes, Syldor notices, though he can’t tell if they’re from shame or fury or a combination of the two. “I’m finished dealing with you - both of you. Magistrate Wyrran - that’s the name of the man who decided to go easy on your stupid ass, Vax - made a very good point when I was talking to him yesterday. I’m not _your_ mother,” and then she moves her glare to Syldor, “or _your_ wife. I’m… Vax, I would do anything for you, but I think it’s time you do something for me. Stop getting in trouble. _Father,_ I think you need learn what exactly that word means. Vax and I didn’t ask to exist, or to be your burden. You _took_ us, and while I have my problems with how easily Mom let you-”

“-she didn’t _let_ him-”

“-you’re the one who sought us out. So act like you want us, or tell us to leave.”

***  
_“Excuse me?”_

_“I’m taking the children.”_

_“No, you aren’t.”_

_“I am. No children of mine will be raised in a place like this.”_

_Elaina looks so much older, though it’s only been a decade. Humans age too quickly. “First, you said my house was homely the last time you were here-”_

_“-I was drunk-”_

_“-and second, they’re not your children. You don’t even know their names.”_

_“Vex’ahlia and,” Syldor represses the sigh that bubbles in the back of his throat, “Vax’ildan.”_

_“That doesn’t change anything.”_

_“They’ll be better off in Syngorn. They’ll be educated. They’ll never have to worry about money or work.”_

_“Are you suggesting I can’t provide for my children?”_

_“I’m not_ suggesting _it.”_

***  
It’s altogether unsurprising when Syldor wakes to an empty house less than a week later. He wonders if he was too harsh on Vex’ahlia for speaking her mind, or if there was something he could’ve done to curb Vax’ildan’s behavior long before everything culminated, but mostly, he’s satisfied that he didn’t fall off his career path in the process of trying to handle them. They were born wild, both of them, although Vex’ahlia did her best to hide it. He would almost agree with Vax’ildan - he should have left them - if he didn’t know what happened to Elaina.

Syldor prefers the twins gone, but never dead.

***  
_Adlen is an old friend, but not a good one. Oh, he’s helped Syldor go beyond Syngorn’s walls, which led to his promotion to ambassador, but he’s always been too invested in the happenings of the outside world._

_“Are your children around?”_

_“No.” Vax’ildan and Vex’ahlia are out, whatever that means. Syldor doesn’t much care what they do with their free time._

_“I rode through Byroden two days ago.”_

_“And how are Elaina and Hope?”_

_“Dead.”_

_“...pardon?”_

_“A dragon ravished the town. Burned their house down. They were inside.” The heavy pause makes Syldor wonder about Adlen and Hope, but he doesn’t ask. It doesn’t matter now, anyway. “I thought… well, I thought the twins should know. But-”_

_“Don’t tell them.”_

_“I won’t.”_

_“They don’t need to know.”_

_“Wait, you’re not going to tell them?”_

_“When they’re grown.”_

_“Syldor-”_

_“Thank you for telling me, Adlen.”_

***  
Syldor imagines what it will be like for the twins to return to Byroden. Vax’ildan will cry, because he loves his mother as much as he’s like her. Vex’ahlia might not, because Syldor taught her not to, and she’s always been a decent student. Maybe they’ll stay there and rebuild the house. It was a nice house, more comfortable than many that line the streets of Syngorn. Or maybe they’ll leave.

Syldor wouldn’t be surprised if they disappeared completely, never to be heard from again.

He’s imagined the smoldering ruins of Elaina’s home hundreds of times. He’s thought of her screams (he never heard her scream in life, it’s unlike her, but surely she would scream as she’s burned alive?). He’s wondered if she was grateful that he saved her children, or if she somehow knew he wasn’t the best father to them. Did she die resenting him? Or was she solely thinking of the twins?

He didn’t love her - he barely knew her - but there’s something to be said for a woman he can see in every expression his son made, in the defiance his daughter showed in her strongest moments. He doesn’t know _what,_ but there’s something to be said for Elaina.


End file.
